


sometimes, the best that we can do, is to start over

by 6741



Category: Holby City
Genre: Captain America AU, F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 00:39:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13869390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/6741/pseuds/6741
Summary: Captain America AU





	sometimes, the best that we can do, is to start over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parcequelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parcequelle/gifts).



> To my darling parcequelle!!!! I hope you enjoy this little piece of crack!!
> 
> Sorry about any typos - I will come back and fix them when I have time again. In like 50 years. lol.

Serena doesn’t even hear about it until the next day. She’s on a double shift, and by the time she trudges home at 7:30 am, bleary eyed and foggy brained, it takes just about every ounce of energy she has left to brush her teeth before falling on her bed.

_Captain America Bursts Through Times Square_

When she wakes up in the middle of the afternoon, her phone is lit up with Breaking News Alerts from every newspaper under the sun.

It’s hard to imagine Captain America is real, even while she’s watching the tall, blonde, wide-eyed woman twisting about in confusion in the middle of Times Square, stopping traffic as dozens of large, black SUVs surround her. She looks so tiny on her phone screen, the cellphone footage blurry and shaky as it films a hero from plucked from another time. She looks about as big as the action figure of Captain America that Serena had played with as a little girl.

But then Serena’s phone rings - the other fellow has come down with the flu and they need here to come in again. Hospital, eat, sleep, hospital, eat, sleep. She thought her hours as an F1 were bad, but the British medical students apparently have it easy compared to the training here in the States. She had finished her MBA at Harvard, only to find out Edward had been sleeping with a fellow registrar the entire time. It was either going back to England to a cheating fiance or accepting the vascular surgery fellowship at Columbia. She had chosen New York.

Then finally, three months goes by and she’s given a full week off, more than just 24 hours to do the laundry and catch up on sleep. On her second day off, she throws a book and a bottle of wine into a large satchel, braves the heat of the the New York City subway in the dead of summer, makes it all the uptown to Central Park. She settles on a bench under a tree, opens her book.

Serena is just about to find out how the heroine will unstick herself from a messy love triangle when someone sits down next to her. She offers a glance, just to acknowledge the presence of her bench companion, when she freezes in place, her mouth falling open at the sight in front of her.

“Sorry, am I bothering you?”

It takes a few seconds for Serena to snap back to herself, to gather her wits and shake her head.

“No, sorry, no,” she says, returning her gaze to her book.

The news cycle on Captain America had pretty much died down after a few weeks. It’s just the way the media is like on this side of the pond. Serena had occasionally found her mind drifting to the captain, thawed out from her arctic freeze, living seventy years in the future. Serena certainly hadn’t expected to be sitting next to the woman on her day off from work.

Serena dares to look up again, is mesmerized by just how beautiful the captain really is. The grainy photos taken by war photographers in the 1940s could never have done justice to the captain, her cheekbones, the line of her jaw, her soft blonde hair, a messy mop on her head.

“I’m sorry, I’m bothering you,” the captain says, a hint of self-consciousness hiding in her voice, moving to stand and Serena waves her hand, feeling utterly idiotic.

“No, I’m sorry, I’m just surprised. You, you’re um, you’re Captain America,” Serena says.

The captain grimaces a little, shakes her head.

“Well, I think just Bernie is fine,” she says.

“Hi, I’m Serena,” she finally manages, extends her hand. The captain’s hand is rough, calloused and bumpy, like she’s done nothing but spend time at the gym since being retrieved from the Arctic.

“Nice to meet you Serena,” Bernie says. “You know, I think you’re the first British person I’ve met since, well,” she trails off and stares off at the trees.

“I, uh, yes. I imagine there’s a decent lot of us here,” Serena says.

Captain America is nothing like the one she’s seen in the history books. They described her as outgoing, a strong leader with a charismatic personality, but the woman sitting in front of her is shy, almost timid. More like a deer in headlights. Maybe that’s only natural, dying and waking up in an entirely different world.

“Is that so?” Bernie asks, and Serena nods.

“Well, it is the melting pot of the world. Though I haven’t met many. Hard to meet people when you work 90 hours a week,” Serena says.

“I see,” Bernie says. “Do you miss home?”

“Well, not too often. I like it here, though I do miss good Indian food,” Serena says.

“Indian food?” Bernie asks, pulling out a small notebook from her pocket.

“Yes, it’s good here, but nothing like back at home,” Serena says, watches Captain America write down _Indian Food_ at the bottom of a list.

“I guess I’ll have to try it sometime,” Bernie says, and Serena has to bite her tongue to contain her laughter. She manages to read _Moon Landing, Steve Jobs, Marsha P. Johnson, Nirvana, I Love Lucy_ before the captain shuts the notebook closed, offers a shy smile. “Apparently I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

“Yes, I can imagine,” Serena says, still in shock, still unsure she’s not in a dream and actually having a conversation with Captain America on a park bench in the middle of Central Park.

“So what do you do, Serena, that you have to work 90 hours a week?” she asks, and Serena closes her book, a finger holding her spot.

“I’m a doctor. A surgeon. Well, I’m currently doing a fellowship in vascular surgery,” Serena says.

Bernie’s eyes light up, and for the first time since the start of their conversation, Serena sees a flicker of actual life in her dark, brown eyes.

“That’s fantastic. I was a doctor once,” Bernie says excitedly.

Serena has to stop herself from yelling _well obviously_. Her mother had bought her a biography of Captain America when she was a young girl, and she had stayed up all night reading. Major Berenice Wolfe, the only female doctor in the British Army, who helped Erskine develop a serum, the woman who had offered to be the first test subject before they would start injecting the serum in soldiers. Erskine had trusted her, had believed Major Wolfe had a good heart, one that wouldn't be corrupted by the serum. Serena had kept her close, invisible backup whenever a man felt she wasn’t as deserving because she was a woman.

“Yes, I’ve read that,” Serena says, as nonchalantly as she can, and Bernie’s eyebrows shoot up, like she doesn’t know her own historical significance. Maybe she should add her own name to the list of things she needs to catch up on.

“What kind of medicine did you practice?” Serena asks, and from then on, they are friends. They chat for a while, and Serena isn’t sure how, but she somehow she manages to help Bernie type her phone number into her cellphone.

“I’m afraid I’ve got a bit of a whiplash with all of this new technology,” she says, a bit peevish, as Serena teaches her how to send a text message.

****

They meet for coffee and lunches and drinks, and any free time Serena has from the hospital she spends with Bernie. She catches Bernie up on seventy years of medical research, on the advancements made in surgery, even manages to bring her as a guest to the hospital and lets Bernie watch as she uses the daVinci to perform a surgery.

Bernie doesn’t stop talking about the procedure for about three hours straight, still in disbelief that a robot could be used to cut somebody open and fix them. Bernie doesn’t really talk about herself, not really, but she talks around the life she had before, occasional comments about her research with Erskine, rare mentions of the soldiers who fought by her side in the war.

Sometimes Bernie disappears for a few days, never giving Serena much notice, always comes back a little bruised. Serena frets about it, tells Bernie she needs to be more careful, but Bernie just shrugs and tells Serena she’ll be fine.

It only takes a few weeks for Serena to learn that Captain America is a complete and utter dork. Serena spends several weeks catching Bernie up on the latest television shows, the greatest film hits of the latter half of the 20th century. She soon learns that they have similar tastes, that Bernie loves a good sitcom.

They spend a few weeks binge watching Will and Grace and Serena learns Bernie doesn’t laugh. No, she honks, a blast of sound and joy ringing loudly around the room. She claps her hand over her mouth the first time it happens, but Serena, wide eyed and happy, just laughs with Bernie, sees Bernie’s walls come down a little bit as she peels back a little bit of Captain America’s uniform.

By the end of the fifth episode, Bernie sits in silence for a while, amazed at how much culture has changed, mentions a few of her friends who were dismissed from the army and imprisoned for being gay.

One night, Bernie is browsing Serena’s movie collection when she lands on Carol. She comes into the kitchen, holding up the DVD and Serena freezes, eyes wide, afraid she’s been caught out.

“What’s this about?” Bernie asks, and Serena turns back to the stove, stirs vigorously.

“Um, it’s a love story,” Serena says, her heart racing as blood rushes to her ears.

“But it’s with two women,” Bernie says.

“Yes,” Serena responds.

“A blockbuster film was made about a love story between two women, and it was nominated for six Acamdey Award films?” Bernie asks.

“Times have changed,” Serena says, and Bernie grunts, places the DVD back in its place and chooses the Ghostbusters DVD instead.

****

The aliens show up in New York, and while Serena isn’t surprised humans aren’t the only forms of intelligent life in the universe, she is very distraught that they show up at her doorstep and practically rip New York to shreds.

She’s at the hospital when the attack happens, spends most of her time helping to evacuate the patients before half the surgical wing is torn in half by a flying alien monster. When the dust settles, she finds a young boy trapped under a pile of rubble, is trying to pull him free when the Captain shows up, uniform covered in dust, panting and bleeding, wide-eyed. She screeches to a half when she sees Serena. Serena barely has a chance to register the blood coming from Bernie’s temple, under her mask. Bernie merely pushes Serena aside, yanks the rubble off the boy with one hand, and Serena doesn't even time to admire her strength because the boy has internal injuries and needs surgery right away.

It’s touch and go for a while, but they manage to save him, and when Serena steps out of the OR, Bernie is there, still in uniform, still covered in dust, and she pulls Serena into a bone-crushing hug.

“Serena,” she whispers, her voice shaky as she buries her face in Serena’s neck, “when I saw the hospital, I thought…”

“I’m okay,” she says, hugging Captain America back with all of her might. “I’m okay.”

She forces Bernie to come home with her that night. She’s got a cracked rib, is bruised all over, and Serena doesn’t want her spending the night alone.

“I just need to debrief with the team. Then straight to yours,” Bernie promises, and Serena threatens her with hellfire if she doesn’t.

She’d been on call for about 48 hours before the aliens show up, so she heads home to try and tidy up before Bernie comes over. It’s only while she’s changing the sheets that she realizes that she’s only got one bed - NYC real estate is unaffordable and she’s not an attending yet.

She’s in the middle of cooking dinner when there is a knock at her door, and when she opens it, she finds Bernie leaning against the frame, barely standing.

“Come on,” Serena says, putting her arms around Bernie’s waist and helping her inside. She settles her on a chair and goes to run a bath, comes back to find Bernie’s eyes scrunched closed.

“What hurts?” she asks gently, resting a hand gently on Bernie’s shoulder. It’s unfair, really, that the burden of saving the world should rest on so few, that a woman who sacrificed her life to save the world once is asked to do it again, over and over.

“Just the ribs,” Bernie says quietly, her breath shaky as she forces calm breaths.

“Come on, a hot bath, and then some food, ok?” Serena says, and Bernie just nods, lets Serena help her to the bathroom.

Once Bernie is sitting on the toilet, Serena doesn’t know what to do, how to take the uniform off of her.

“Here,” Bernie says, lifting her left arm, and Serena sees the zipper, slowly unzips and gently pushes the jacket off Bernie. She’s got a white vest on underneath. She reaches for the edges of the v, and Bernie holds her hand.

“It’s okay, Bernie. You can’t do this alone with a cracked rib,” Serena says, and Bernie gives in, lets Serena take the tank top off of her and Serena doesn’t let her eyes linger, does her best not to cry at the bruises starting to form all over Bernie’s body, catches the _P_ tattooed in black ink just to the side of her ribcage.

“I can do the rest,” Bernie says quietly, and Serena nods, leaves Bernie be as she goes off to finish dinner.

Serena has to turn off the stove and muffle her sobs with the kitchen towel. She knew war was ugly, had read the books, had taken the classes, but to see it up close, it hurts. It’s hard to believe that Captain America has become her closest friend, but that’s exactly what has happened. And she has to sit by and just watch while Bernie hurts.

By the time Bernie emerges from her bath, hair wet and fluffy, wrapped in a white robe, she looks much better.

“I’m a fast healer,” Bernie had told her once, something to do with the serum and the way her body repairs itself.

It’ll be a few days before she’s back to normal, but she looks better than she did earlier.

“You must be hungry,” Serena says, starts to reach for plates when she feels Bernie right behind her, feels the warmth of her body before she’s being turned around and pulled into another hug.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Bernie whispers, holding tight, and Serena hugs her back, as gently as she can.

“Right as rain,” Serena says quietly, and Bernie sighs loudly.

They’re halfway through the meal when Bernie breaks the silence, sets her fork down.

“I’ve lost a lot of people, Serena,” she says, and Serena looks up, sees Bernie staring at her plate.

Serena reaches out and covers Bernie’s hand with her own.

“Well seventy years is a long time,” Serena says.

“No, even before that. During the war,” Bernie pauses, stares at her plate with vacant eyes. “I can’t...today, Serena, I...”

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere,” Serena says, tightens her grip on Bernie’s hand. “I’m tougher than I look, you know” she says, offers Bernie a small smile and Bernie nods, goes back to finishing her dinner.

Later, when they’re in bed together, Bernie staring up at the ceiling, Serena can’t help it. The question has been nagging her all night, and she’s never been good at sitting on unanswered questions.

“The tattoo you have,” she says, feeling Bernie tense up next to her. “P, was that someone you lost too?”

Bernie stays silent long enough that Serena thinks maybe she’s crossed a line, is about to lean over and turn off the light when she feels the bed shake lightly as Bernie nods.

“She was,” Bernie says, and Serena’s eyes shoot open at the pronoun. “We were in the same unit. She trained me, actually, to fight, after the serum. I was medic, not a combat soldier.”

“I’m sorry,” Serena says quietly. “Did she die in the war?”

“No, still very much alive, although her memories are mostly all gone now. She was a founding member of SHIELD, ran it until a few years ago,” Bernie says.

“You must have been close,” Serena offers. She has her permanently inked on her body, after all. She wonders if this P has a _B_ inked on her body too.

“We were lovers, Peggy and I,” Bernie whispers. “Absolutely not allowed, but, we were happy.”

Serena stares at the ceiling, not sure how to process the information, this gift that Bernie has given her. For all of their months of friendship, Bernie rarely opens about herself, Serena settling for gleaning clues or giving up and asking direct questions. So Bernie to share this with her, Serena understands the gravity.

But she also spends the rest of the night staring at the ceiling. Because she has spent the last three months convincing herself that she wasn’t falling for Bernie Wolfe, that even if she was, it meant nothing because Bernie never gave her any indication she wanted to be more than friends, that she was harboring an insane crush on a childhood hero turned best friend.

But turns out Bernie is the type of girl who likes other girls, who loved another girl. Serena had seen pictures of this Peggy Carter in the books, the news. She was a gorgeous woman, and Serena gets lost for a moment in the fairy tale, the beauty of what Captain Wolfe and Peggy Carter together would have been like, spends the rest of the night fretting away.

****

“Jesus Christ Serena,” Sian says to her as they walk over to the restaurant to meet Bernie for dinner. “You’ve been running around New York with Captain fucking America and you couldn’t have been bothered to tell me?”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly allowed,” Serena says. “Apparently SHIELD doesn’t like her having civilian friends.”

“Still, is she as gorgeous in person as she is in the photos?” Sian asks, and Serena feels the heat creeping up her neck, warming her against the cold winter air. She turns up her collar, but it’s too late because Sian is suddenly gripping her arm. “No!”

“What?” Serena asks, staring resolutely ahead.

“You’ve got a crush on her!” Sian practically shouts, and Serena has to shush her as several passersby give them looks. “You do! You’ve got a crush on captain America!”

Serena clamps her hand over Sian’s mouth as Sian looks at her with glee.

“It’s not a big deal, okay? It’s just a crush,” she says, suddenly regretting the entire dinner. Sian had rung her up a few weeks ago, said her new boyfriend has some business in New York and had invited Sian along.

“Oh my goodness Serena, it’s been so long since you’ve been out there. After that bastard, Edward. It’s about time you got a good shagging,” Sian says, and Serena rolls her eyes.

“Look, we’re just friends. She’s not interested, and I certainly will not be made a fool in front of her so just forget about it,” Serena says, sidestepping a puddle as they cross the street.

“No, darling, this is good. Oh wow she must be really something special to catch your attention. You haven’t had feelings for a girl since medical school,” Sians says, and Serena sighs, stops abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Look, if you want to meet her, you have to promise to behave. Otherwise I will call off the whole bloody dinner,” Serena says.

“Fine, fine,” Sian says, raising her hands in surrender. Once they’re on their way again, Sian links her arm with Serena’s. “I know you don’t think it’s a good thing, but I think it could be loads of fun.”

Fun is certainly one way of putting things. Serena does have fun with Bernie, and Bernie, she thinks, has fun with her too. She laughs more now, is more quick to tease, to joke, even if she doesn’t understand 90% of the cultural references Serena makes.

“There’s no way that woman is straight, and how could she not think you’re fantastic? Why else would she break all of the rules to keep spending time with you?” Sian insists.

Before Serena can answer, she spots Bernie standing outside the restaurant, fiddling with a fag and a match. She shoves it in her pocket when she sees Serena waving, gives her a hug and Sian a handshake.

Sian manages to make it through most of dinner well behaved, well, as well behaved as Sian Kors could ever be. Serena and Sian are on their third glass of wine each, Bernie sticking to water because well, she can’t get drunk. Serena spends most of dinner avoiding Bernie’s eyes, feeling self-conscious, doesn’t want to get caught staring with hearts in her eyes.

Sian is sharing a story about a party night gone wild when she brings up Elizabeth, and Serena chokes on her drink, coughing as Bernie reaches over to rub her back. Serena can practically feel Sian’s eyes boring through them.

“Oh, Serena was probably the most drunk I’ve ever seen her, and Lizzie helped me carry her all the way home,” Sian says.

“Lizzie?” Bernie asks, and Serena’s face flushes red. She stares resolutely at her glass of water, and Sian just chuckles.

“Has Serena never mentioned Lizzie?” Sian asks innocently, and Serena kicks her under the table. Sian barely flinches before she pours herself another glass of wine. “She and Lizzie dated for almost a year.”

Serena looks up and finds an expression she’s never seen on Bernie before. She’s silent, frozen still, and she turns to Serena with wide eyes, mouth open with a question on her lips.

“It was _not_ a year. Only a few months,” Serena says quietly.

“Oh honey, you two were practically dating for half a year before you made it official,” Sian says, and Serena could kill her best friend, really. She will have to give up her medical career because will be locked up for homicide.

Bernie is silent, fiddles with the stem of the water glass, just offers Serena a weak smile. and Serena doesn’t know what to do with that, just awkwardly fumbles with her necklace as Sian goes on about her boyfriend’s new job.

They walk Sian to her hotel, say their goodbyes and then head to the subway together. Bernie had to find a new flat after the alien invasion, something about her place being ruined in the fight, and they had managed to find one in the building right next to Serena’s.

By the time they make it back to their buildings, Serena is balled up into a coil of anxiety and tension and she doesn’t know what to do. They had spent the whole subway ride on their phones, pointedly ignoring the elephant in the room.

“Bernie, are you okay?” she asks, and Bernie refuses to make eye contact with her, just nods absentmindedly.

“Yeah, yes, just tired. It was a hard mission,” she says, and Serena reaches for her arm, gives in a gentle squeeze. Bernie isn’t allowed to give her details, but she knows when Bernie has lost someone, another soldier lost in the fight for good.

“Bernie, I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you. I just, I didn’t know how to bring it up,” Serena says, and Bernie just gives her a small smile. It’s mostly true. Serena had spent weeks trying to find a way to come out to Bernie without making it incredibly awkward. How does one tell her best friend she likes girls, without making it seem like she isn’t chasing after her?

“It’s okay Serena. I’m not...I’m not mad. Just surprised. I thought with Robbie, and then Edward,” Bernie says, and Serena nods. “Whatever happened with Lizzie?”

“Oh,” Serena says, shoving her hands in her pockets. “We, um, I got busy with work, so did she. Career always came first.”

Bernie nods, and then Serena yawns, covers her mouth with her hand.

“I’ll say goodnight then,” Bernie says, and leans in to give Serena a hug.

And Serena, feeling just brave enough, kisses Bernie on the cheek, takes a second to just rest her face against Bernie’s before pulling away, whispering goodnight and running away to her building.

****

It’s somehow better and worse, after that. Now that Bernie knows, Serena doesn’t really have anything left to hide. And somehow, Serena thinks maybe Bernie feels more at ease around Serena. She certainly starts to ask more questions about being a non straight women in this time.

“I mean, there are still parts of the world where things are bad, parts of this country, actually. But here, women can walk down the street holding hands and nobody bats an eyelash,” Serena says.

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” Bernie says. “I’m almost jealous,” she says, and Serena doesn’t have the mental energy to figure out what that means. Jealous of the life she and Peggy could have had? A love like theirs condemned in their time but celebrated in Serena’s.

It doesn't happen on purpose, not really, but they start watching shows starring queer characters, and it’s not until Bernie starts to share about what it meant to be gay in the early 1900’s that Serena realizes just how different their worlds are, just how difficult things were in Bernie’s time, how much has changed, how much still needs to change. That maybe Bernie never talks about her personal life because she’s from a time when talking about her personal life meant the end of her professional one.

Then Christmas rolls around and Serena finds herself working even longer hours than usual. People get stupid around the holidays, no matter the country, it seems.

She’s scheduled to work on Christmas Day, but she has enough days off that her parents decide to fly over to the states. She and Bernie are lounging on her couch, trying desperately to try and make it through at least one episode of The L Word sober, when Serena tells Bernie about her parents’ visit.

“They’ve invited you to Christmas dinner,” Serena says, and Bernie lifts her eyebrows in question.

“They don’t know it’s you, you. They just think you’re my new friend Bernie,” Serena says.

Bernie says she might have to work, but otherwise she’d be happy to come.

Dinner almost gets canceled because Serena’s shift runs late, an emergency surgery rolling in as she’s about to step out the door. Her parents had offered to take a taxi from the airport anyway, but she was supposed to have completed the grocery shopping beforehand.

She rushes out after the surgery, knowing she’s got a very long lecture waiting for her at home. She practically sprints up the stairs, blows open the front door to find her mum and Bernie standing in front of the stove, chatting animatedly about something.

“Oh Serena, dear!” her mother suddenly exclaims, and she’s being pulled into a hug by both of her parents, one right after the other. “Oh darling, it’s so good to see you!”

“What’s all this?” Serena asks as she sets her bag down.

“Oh, Bernie was a dear and picked us up from the airport. In a big fancy car too,” her mother adds. “Serena, how come you didn’t tell us your new friend was our country’s greatest hero?” she scolds, and she can see Bernie’s face turn bright red.

Bernie and her mum practically shoo her out of the kitchen, and Serena catches up with her dad until dinner is ready, keeps darting worried glances at the kitchen. But Bernie seems to be right at home, moving about the kitchen with her mum, talking about something with great ease. She can occasionally hear Bernie’s honk, and Serena prays her mother isn’t telling childhood stories.

“So Bernie, dear, how has it been, adjusting to life in this century?” her mum asks halfway through the first course.

“Mum!” Serena yelps, and her mum just dismisses her with a wave of her hand.

“No, it’s okay, Serena,” Bernie says. “It’s been challenging. I thought the technological challenges would be the worst, but it’s the cultural changes, I think. War, life, the very idea of good and bad, it’s all so different now.”

“Very true,” her dad says, and Bernie nods.

“Well, I’m glad you and Serena have managed to become friends. She worshipped you as a young girl,” her mum says, and Serena’s flushes beet red.

“Mum!” Serena yelps.

“Did she now?” Bernie asks, and Serena meets Bernie’s smirk with an eyeroll.

“She had a small collection of your figurines. I think they’re still somewhere in the attic,” her mum says, and Serena does glare at her mother this time.

“Well that’s flattering,” Bernie says, playfully elbowing Serena.

They send her parents off to their hotel, and Bernie and Serena clean up together.

“So you had action figures of me, did you?” Bernie asks, and Serena rolls her eyes.

“Don’t be so cocky, Wolfe,” Serena says. “I had a lot of different women.”

“Did you now?” Bernie teases, and whacks Serena lightly with the towel.

“Yes I did, as a matter of fact,” Serena says, knows full well it was only ever Bernie.

“But I was your favorite, right?” Bernie asks, throwing the towel back at Serena.

“In your dreams, Wolfe, in your dreams,” Serena says, and Bernie honks. But it feels weird, wrong, Serena almost feels like a cheat, standing in front of Bernie, in front of Captain America, with herself exposed like this. When Bernie sees Serena flustered, she stops, hand on her arm.

“I--I’m sorry, Serena. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” she says.

Serena just shrugs, a habit she picked up from Bernie.

“I, um, I thought you were pretty amazing, a proper hero,” Serena says.

Bernie stills at the word. She doesn’t like it, being called a hero, never comfortable with the mantle of being anyone’s idol, role model, being on any kind of pedestal.

“There were a lot of amazing, strong women in the war, women who did much more important work than I did. I just happened to be injected with a serum,” Bernie says, wiping down the last of the plates.

“Hey, even without the serum, you constantly put your life at risk to save people. You literally drove a plane into the arctic ocean to save the world,” Serena says.

“I did it save the people I loved,” Bernie says quietly. “Not sure how selfless that was, in the end, now that they’ve retrieved it.”

“Hey Wolfe, you’re going to have to believe me at some point when I tell you that you were amazing. I grew up knowing that women could be strong, could be scientists, could be doctors, could be soldiers, could be anything they wanted, because of you. It’s not just me,” Serena says, taking one of Bernie’s hands in her own. “You may not like your significance in history, but think of all of the little girls you inspired.”

“Thanks,” Bernie says quietly. “You’re pretty amazing too, you know.”

“Well, everyone knows that,” Serena says with a wink, and Bernie just rolls her eyes and throws the towel in Serena’s face.

****

She knew it would happen, one day. Has spent a better part of their friendship that one day, Bernie would be hurt beyond repair. Serena comes home from work one day to find Bernie sitting at her door, her face bruised so hard one of her eyes is swollen shut. Serena gasps, her hand flying to her mouth, at the sight.

“Oh honey, what happened?” she asks, rushing to Bernie, who is struggling to stand up.

“Bad guy hit me pretty hard,” she says.

Serena fumbles with her keys while trying to hold Bernie up. As small as her frame is, she is heavy, nothing but solid muscle.

“Sorry to show up like this. They wanted to keep me overnight at the hospital, but I convinced them to let me go, as long as I wouldn’t spend the night alone,” she says.

It’s hard to believe Bernie looks like this because of a fight with a bad guy. She’s seen Captain America fight. She can take a punch from the Hulk himself and still get back up.

Bernie limps over to a kitchen chair, and Serena’s heart breaks at the sight, doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know if she can hug Bernie without hurting her more. She settles for putting her hand on Bernie’s hand, the one not wrapped up in bandages.

“Oh darling,” she whispers, and Bernie stays quiet, lets Serena lead her to the bedroom, lets Serena undress her. She manages to lie down under the covers. It’s become normal for them, to have sleepovers, to share a bed and sometimes wake up cuddling. They don’t talk about it, just carry on, like they are two normal, hetersexual best friends just sharing platonic intimacy.

Bernie goes to bed and Serena spends all night fretting, turns on the news at 3am to see footage of Bernie actually leaping off the Space Needle in Seattle. Leave it to Berenice Wolfe to leap off a flying building. If it hadn’t been for that guy with the wings, Bernie would have plummeted 120 stories to her death. Serena’s knees wobble at the sight, has to sit at the kitchen table. Oh, she could wring Bernie’s neck if she weren’t so damned injured.

Serena calls off from work for the next few days, calls in favors to have her shifts covered as she tries to help Bernie as much as she can. Bernie is different from the other times she’s come back from missions, different from the other injuries. Physically, it’s never been so bad. It’s almost two days before the swelling on her face goes down, three days before she walks without a limp. But she’s quieter too, even more so than usual.

Serena had gotten Bernie to open up slowly over the last year, about her life from before, about the hardships of adjusting to civilian life, adjusting to an era she wasn’t born for. But Bernie is silent, spends most of the days staring at her phone or at the television screen, only responds in grunts to Serena’s questions. Serena assumes Bernie just hates being a burden, doesn’t like that she has to depend on someone else.

At night, she cries out, loudly enough to wake them both. She shivers under the covers, but turns away when Serena offers to hold her, stands up and walks into the living room and turns on the TV there. Serena had studied PTSD in medical school, can’t tell if this is what this is, doesn’t know how to help.

Then on the fifth day, Serena runs to work for a shift, comes home to find her flat empty, groans in frustration and slams her purse onto a table, sits down and has a good cry, the first she’s allowed herself since Bernie showed up at her doorstep bruised and battered.

It’s too much. She’s an idiot. She’s fallen in love with her best friend, with someone who will always run into a fire, with no regard for her own life or whether she leaves behind the people who care for her.

She pulls out her phone, shoots out a text.

 _Guess you made it home. Let me know if you need anything_.

The gray dots appear, go on for an eternity.

_I had to go in for a debriefing. Dinner?_

Serena breathes a little bit at that, feels a little less abandoned.

 _Okay_.

Bernie shows up two hours later, in black running lycra and Serena has to do her best not to stare at her, not ogle her, not wonder what it would be like to peel back those tight pants, how soft her skin would be.

They settle on delivery, get a pizza while Serena sits on the couch and waits out Bernie’s silence.

“It was bad,” Bernie finally says from her spot on the other end of the couch, picking at invisible lint on her jacket. “I, um, we lost a lot of good people.”

“Bernie,” Serena whispers.

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it this time,” Bernie says, and Serena presses her lips together, doing her best to keep her emotions in check as she reaches across the couch, takes Bernie’s hand in hers. “And all I could think about as I was lying under that truck was how I would never see you again.”

Tears start to sting in Serena’s eyes, clouding her vision, when the words settle.

“Wait, a truck?” she asks, rubbing at her eyes. “Did you just say you were lying underneath a _truck_?”

Bernie just grips Serena’s hand hard in hers.

“I sort of got run over by a truck,” Bernie says, and Serena reaches the end of her tether, feels something crack and all of the emotions she has been trying to keep in check for Bernie’s sake start to spill out of her.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Bernie!” she practically shouts, and Bernie’s eyes grow wide. “You can’t just, you’re not invincible! You’re strong but you can’t go up against a truck. And you can’t fly out of buildings, giving no thought to the people who care about you, the people who have to watch you get hurt over and over again! Your life means something to me too!”

Serena runs out of steam, still fuming just a little bit, and Bernie stays silent, her mouth gaping open. Serena is working up the ire to continue her rant when her phone rings, the delivery person with their pizza.

Bernie grabs the plates and meets Serena back at the couch, cradles the plate with the slice of pizza on her legs, fiddling with the crust.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and Serena pauses mid bite, looks up at Bernie. “Ever since I’ve been, well, since they’ve thawed me out, I’ve been reluctant to build a real life. Being, this, being Captain America, it means my life is always at risk.”

“Well, I know that. But surely there are better ways to go about things that leaping out of buildings Bernie,” Serena says.

“It’s, um, it’s been a long time since anybody has cared about just me, not the captain,” Bernie mumbles.

“You’re an idiot,” Serena says, and that’s enough for Bernie to smile, enough to burst the balloon of tension in the room. Maybe so she hasn’t confessed her love to the captain. But Bernie is getting better. Maybe what Bernie needs right now is just a friend, and Serena resolves to be that, to be the best friend she knows how to be.

****

They’re at the park again, spring having come back around, on the same bench they met all those months ago. They’re laughing about some stupid thing or other when suddenly Bernie stops, sits up straight.

“What?” Serena asks, and Bernie snaps up just as some guy leaps out at her from behind a bush, to punch him and launch him thirty feet into the air.

“Stay down!” she yells as two more men dressed in suits run towards them. Bernie knocks them both out, grabs Serena’s hand and drags her. They take off, and Serena turns around for a second, long enough to see several more men in suits chasing after them.

Bernie has her SHIELD phone in her other hand, calling for backup, yelling out her location. They manage to make it out to the park entrance, just in time for a black SUV to roll up. The doors open and red head pops her head out, yells “get in” and before Serena knows it, she is being shoved into a car, Bernie slamming the door shut as it speeds away.

“What the hell is going on!” Serena manages to yell as she hears metal clanging behind her, turns around to see men in cars with guns chasing them down.

“Get down!” Bernie yells, shoving Serena down as she covers her with her body. “What the hell is this?”

The red haired woman is leaning out the window, gun in hand.

“Leftover Hydra,” she yells, shooting at the men behind them. “Got ‘em,” she says, before settling down in the seat next to her. Serena sits back up to see the car behind them crashed into a pole.

Before Serena can get her bearings, the car pulls to a stop and Bernie is dragging her out of the car, and she is being walked into a building, onto a life surrounded by fifteen suits carrying very large guns.

“How the hell did they find us?” Bernie demands, fury on her face as she demands answers from the red haired woman.

“We don’t know. We think there might be a leak. Fury’s ordered a lockdown on all of the Avengers,” she says, and Bernie stops and turns to Serena, her voice going quiet.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” she asks, and Serena is frazzled, can barely manage to nod.

“Hi, I’m Natasha,” the woman says, extending her hand, and Serena takes it, a quick shake before the lift comes to a stop. They step off the life and directly into a flat that is as heavily guarded as the elevator.

Bernie is pacing the living room as Serena sits on a couch, her hands shaking. Suddenly a very large screen turns on and Serena jumps at the sound of Director Fury’s voice. She’s seen him in the news here and there. Bernie mentions him from time to time, but she never thought she’d be this close to the man, ever.

“You promised me our location would never be compromised!” she yells at the man on the screen.

“Captain, there were circumstances we could not control,” he says.

“If there is a leak, clearly you lost control somewhere,” Bernie says, rubbing her forehead as she paces in front of the screen.

“We have cleared out all of the sects of Hydra, with the exception of one last group. We had to leak some information to figure out how they communicated,” he says, and Bernie stops, and Serena has never seen her like this.

“You compromised Serena’s safety for some intel?” she asks, and Fury just stares at Bernie, face blank.

“Before you yell at me, Captain, the leak proved useful. We’ve found the group’s last operating base. You and Romanoff are flying out right now. When that’s taken care of, you can yell at me all you want,” he says, and the screen turns off.

“Did you know about this?” Bernie yells, turns to Natasha.

“I knew he was planning on something. I didn’t know it’d be this,” she says. “Bernie, look, she’ll be safe here.”

“How can you know that? Just like how we were supposed to be safe in the city? What if they get to her? Clearly they know who she is now,” Bernie says.

“Hello! I can still hear you!” Serena says, gathering the energy to stand up, and both women turn their heads, almost surprised to see her.

“Look, Serena,” Bernie says, walking over to her. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t, it’s my fault. I never should have let it get this far.”

“It’s not your fault your boss is an idiot,” Serena says, and Bernie manages a feeble smile.

“I have to go take care of this. But in the meantime, please stay here. These men will keep you safe,” Bernie says.

“Bernie, I have to be at work in a few hours,” Serena says, and Bernie shakes her head.

“No, no, absolutely not. Not right now, not while they’re still out there,” Bernie pleads.

“But--”

“Please, Serena, I just, I need you safe, until I can finish the job,” Bernie says, and Serena finds herself nodding, realizes she was never going to say no to Bernie, ever.

So she spends the next two days pacing back and forth, feeling more imprisoned than protected. She’s not allowed outside the flat, nice as it is. She’s not allowed on the balcony either, so she can do nothing but watch the news and pray Bernie isn’t lying dead in a ditch somewhere.

She manages to convince one of the suits to get her a laptop and a phone, and she works on her charting while stuck here. She’s on her very last dictation when there is suddenly commotion, and she turns around to find Bernie standing at the doorway in her uniform. She has a bruise on her forehead, but otherwise, she seems okay.

She runs over and pulls her into a hug, doesn’t let go until Bernie loosens her grip.

“Get all of the bad guys?” Serena asks, and Bernie shrugs.

“For now,” she says. “Come on, let’s get you to your new home.”

“What? What new home?” she asks, and Bernie doesn’t answer her, just marches towards the lift.

“What new home?” she tries again, and Bernie grimaces.

“Your flat was deemed unsafe. Hydra is taken down for now, but those guys have a way of always creeping back,” Bernie says.

“What about all of my stuff?” Serena asks.

“It’s been brought to your new flat,” Bernie says. “SHIELD has secured a safe place for you, for now.”

It’s a really nice flat. More like a penthouse. It overlooks the park, has two bedrooms, everything is digitized, including the commands to turn on the lights.

But Serena doesn’t get to play with the new features because she sees Bernie settle herself down at the kitchen table, hands wrung together.

Serena sits across from her, gently waits her out.

“They could have gotten to you,” Bernie says quietly.

“But they didn’t,” Serena says.

“No, but they could have. You were in danger, no, I put you in danger, by being with you,” Bernie says.

“Oh come on, Bernie, I knew that being friends with Captain America didn’t mean all frolicks in the park,” Serena says. “I knew what I was getting myself into.”

“No, Serena you could have died. And it would have been my fault,” Bernie says. “Being with me, being associated with me, means your life is always in danger. And I can’t let that happen.”

“Excuse me?” Serena asks, her voice sharp, and Bernie looks up with pleading eyes.

“Serena, there will always be a bad guy. There will always be someone, some group, who will come after me, and by that, will come after you,” Bernie says. “How can I live with myself if something happens to you?”

“So you get to decide for me, is that it?” Serena asks, and Bernie opens her mouth, and then closes it.

“I’m not deciding for you, it’s just that--”

“Last I checked, Berenice Wolfe, you may be Captain America, but I am not one of your soldiers. You don’t get to tell me what I can and cannot do. I am a fully grown adult who is capable of making my own decisions.”

“But what if something happens to you?” Bernie asks, her voice going quiet, and suddenly it all clicks. Bernie may be the bravest soldier in the world, the strongest and fastest soldier who will run into the fire, but she has suffered too many losses, has been broken too many times. Berenice Wolfe is terrified.

“I have you to keep me safe,” Serena says, reaching out to take Bernie’s hands in hers.

“I can’t always be there,” Bernie says. “And the bad guys, they never stop.”

“Well that’s a risk I’m willing to take. You’re a risk I’m willing to take. I’m a grown adult Bernie, and you don’t get to just decide for me who gets to be in my life, who I get to spend time with, who I choose to love. That’s my choice!” Serena gasps, the words flying out of her mouth before she realizes, sees her own shock mirrored on Bernie’s face.

And before Serena can apologize, before she can take back what she says, she is being pulled out of her chair and being kissed like she never has before. Bernie’s lips are soft, her body is firm, her hands are like iron, but gentle as she pulls Serena close. Serena whimpers against her lips, can’t believe she’s kissing Berenice Wolfe after all of this time.

Bernie pulls back, eyes wide in fear, apology on her lips, and Serena yanks her back and kisses her again, wrapping her arms around Bernie as she opens her mouth, feels her tongue touch Bernie’s and moans in pleasure, her knees going weak at the sensation.

They break for air, foreheads pressed together as they pant.

“About damn time,” Serena mutters, and Bernie breaks out into the biggest smile Serena has ever seen. Serena yelps as Bernie lifts her up with ease, like she’s carrying air. She wraps her legs around Bernie’s waist, leans down again to kiss her as Bernie walks them somewhere, anywhere, Serena doesn’t care, her mind focused on the taste of Bernie, of the feel of the firm body against her own, giggles as Bernie drops her on the bed.

“I’ve thought of little else,” Bernie says, kissing Serena frantically, her hands mapping Serena’s body.

Serena moans, allows her fingers to card through Bernie’s hair, so soft, so messy, pulls her mouth back up for a kiss, feels hands creeping under her shirt when a buzzer blares throughout the flat. They both freeze, and Bernie groans in frustration as she hears knocking on the door.

“Wolfe, open up, it’s me,” someone shouts, and Bernie groans and stands up, walks out of the bedroom, hears some conversation.

“Everything okay?” Serena shouts, and Bernie reappears in the bedroom, a file in her hand.

“I’ve gotta head back to the office,” Bernie says, and Serena groans and walks over to Bernie, kisses her hard.

“Okay,” she whispers against her lips, Bernie’s eyes shining. “To be continued?”

Bernie lifts a hand to Serena’s face, gently caresses it before leaning in for one last kiss.

“Yes, I promise,” she says before heading out.

****

Their promise has to wait another few weeks. Between Bernie’s trips to DC and Serena’s schedule, they barely have time for a few make out sessions. Serena grows increasingly frustrated, senses it in Bernie too, had seen the way Bernie’s body was shaking when they were interrupted by yet another phone call from Fury.

Serena finally has a weekend off, but Bernie is in DC again. So she’s settling down for a quiet weekend at home when she gets a text from Bernie.

_Pack a bag for two days. I’ll be there in 15._

Serena stares at her phone in confusion for a minute, doesn’t know what this means. She can’t tell if she’s in danger, or if this is a romantic getaway. She supposes if she were in danger, all of the SHIELD alarms in her new flat would have started ringing. She settles on practical wear, in case they are in danger, as well as some lingerie.

She’s downstairs when Bernie pulls up in an Aston Martin convertible, leather jacket and aviators to boot.

“Going for a James Bond look are we?” Serena teases, getting into the car as Bernie handles the luggage. “I may be Captain America, but I can’t forget my roots,” she says.

“So where are we off to?” Serena asks, and Bernie just grins, says it’s a surprise.

They drive for a few hours, out of the city, past the suburbs. It’s nice, the wind in her hair, the music blasting on the stereo. Bernie looks majestic almost, and Serena heart flutters at the sight.

Bernie pulls up to a house, more like a mansion, in the middle of the woods.

“Belonged to my parents,” Bernie says. “It was sold off when I, well, I guess when I died. I managed to buy it back last week.”

Bernie brings in both their cases, starts to offer a tour but Serena has other things in mind, pushes Bernie up against the door and kisses her. Bernie whimpers in surprise before finding her bearings, before lifting Serena up and taking her to bed. They spend the rest of the night there, taking breaks for the toilet and for food. Serena knew sex with Bernie would be good, but god she had no idea just how talented the captain really was.

Later, as she’s tracing Bernie’s face with her finger, Serena takes a stuttering breath, can’t believe this is her life. That she’s just spent hours making love to Berenice Wolfe, Captain fucking America. But she feels the ghosts of Bernie’s past weighing her down, even here.

“Penny for them?” Bernie asks quietly, and Serena stills her hand, brings it down to Bernie’s shoulder.

“I, you said, Peggy was your person,” Serena says quietly, hating her own insecurity. “What, what is this?”

Bernie reaches for Serena’s hand, presses a kiss to it.

“I did love, Peggy. But,” she pauses, pushing away the hair from Serena’s forehead. “I’m afraid you’re the only one for me now.”

“Really?” Serena asks, letting herself hope. Because she’s accidentally yelled at Bernie about how much she loves her, but Bernie has never said anything about it.

“I think maybe it was always supposed to be like this. Maybe I was supposed to find my way to you,” Bernie says, and Serena feels the sting of tears, leans forward to kiss Bernie.

“Good,” she says, wiping away her tears. “But if you ever drive a plane into the arctic ocean to save me, I will kick your ass Captain. You’ve got nothing on me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bernie says, giggling as she pulls Serena close and holds her tight.


End file.
